Boartusk Heights broad-shouldered beast

By the time the scent of the other wolf had reached his nose, it was too late to attempt to slip away silently. His long ashen ears pricked forward at the sound of the other male’s voice calling out to him. Stopping in his tracks, Kierkegaard drew his golden gaze on the stranger and frowned softly. He was a soot-spattered figure; draped in a dominate shade of grey with darker markings here and there. The other male’s eyes were a crisp set of blue globes. His figure did not seem to have suffered as much as others had in the famine, which caused a pricking curiosity to settle in Kierke’s gut.
 
The ‘hey’ had gone unanswered thus far. Narrowing his brows a bit and drawing his ears forward, the Sairensu male uttered a noncommittal “humph” of a grunt at the stranger, pausing in his trek.